I awoke, stiff, aching, and feeling drawn and extremely tired. My body felt as if I hadn’t slept at all, though a quick glance at the clock showed me that it was just before seven, a fact confirmed by the rays of weak early morning sunlight invading the study through the window. I’d probably slept for about two and a half to three hours; I hadn’t checked the clock before being overtaken by the black sleep from which I’d now awakened. The wind and rain of the night before had gone, the house was still and quiet, and for a moment or two, I felt relatively calm, almost my normal self.
Then, the realisation hit me. I remembered exactly why I was here, sitting in my study chair, stiff and aching from head to foot. How could I have forgotten, even for a moment? There it was, the journal, on the
